Selections from Old Major's Journal
by LeoN WiNgsteiN
Summary: Old Major's thoughts on Animal Farm


**SELECTIONS FROM OLD MAJOR'S JOURNAL **

Old Major

My Journal.

Do not read.

Unless you are Old Major.

March, 1948 

Today, I preached my dream to the animals of the farm my fellow comrade animals. They are excited, but I can also see their worry. They are worried that it will not come to fruition, that it will not occur until after their lifetime. I believe that they can do it, that they can take over and rule with control only an animal can. It will be a land of equality, of peace, and love of the fellow animal.

I just hope that they will not find themselves in peril. You see, they are silly animals, and they do not quite understand what they are getting into. I do hope that they think about what they are doing before they do it. I fear that they will be greedy and do something utterly dumb, such as take the power of being an independent and free nation _too far._

March, 1948

I lay here in my stall and I take shallow breaths. I cannot even think straight any more...

The world is warping around me. It is all I can do to keep the words on the page...

The light above my head seems to be swinging, although I know it is not. The hay underneath my body smelled sweet and nasty at the same time. There is a bucket by my head, and I try to drink form it. I fail. I am dying.

I am dying.

I will never see my dream happen. I will die on this Jones-controlled farm. I do not know whether or not my ideals will work, but I hope the animals will follow through and have good lives in the future, I truly do...

April, 1948

I do not know where I am. In fact, I do not know how I am writing in my journal, something that I held quite dear to myself during my life. It is with me, in this floating afterlife, and I am grateful for this. It seems to me that this afterlife, whatever it is, is very accomodating to me.

This afterlife is the same farm that I lived on, and I presume that it actually is. I am floating around with the rest of the animals, but they do not seem to see me. When I look upwards, to the sky, I can see a large mountian. I have a deep passion, a deep wanting to go to the mountian. But there is somehting that holds me here, holds me here at the farm. I want to see what the animals do. I want to see if they follow my advice and follow through with my vision of animals running the farm.

August, 1948

They have done it. They finally did it, they finally took over and made their lives their own, and fruits of their labours are their own. I am proud of them, proud that they could take my vision and make it their own paradise. Of course, they will face hardships, but with the help of the commandments they made for themselves, they will have a very happy future.

September, 1948

The animals seem to be getting on pretty well with their new farm. I am especially proud about their victory at Cowshed. They once again showed the humans that they could win, that they could prevail, that they could hold their own and fight their way to victory.

I am worried about Snowball and Napoleon, though. They constantly quarrel, and I am worried that one of them will end up with the wrong intentions for the rest of the animals. I am worried that one of them will fall into the hands of greed.

This, though, is not something that I think will become a problem anytime soon. The animals are doing well, and I cannot wait to see what they accomplish next.

December, 1948

The animals are facing a very hard winter. Although they had a large amount of food stored up, or at least I thought they did, they are running out of food. They still are hopeful, though. They are hopeful of their future, which is full of promise.

March, 1949

No... Today, when Snowball was revealing his plans for a windmill, a windmill that would make the lives of every animal on the farm easier, Napoleon revealed his secret force of brainwashed dogs to chase him away. This is the most traitorous act I have seen an animal preform since the revolution, and it completely goes against the ideals of my idea of what they are now calling "Animalism".

By the glint in Napoleon's eye, I can tell that he has ideas for this farm, horrible ideas that I could never imagine. He has ideas that will make the lives of all the animals here much harder.

Today, I weep for the animals at Animal Farm.

May, 1949

Today, I was joined by Snowball in my ghostly observation of the farm. He explained to me on arrival that after being run out of the farm, he had tried unsuccessfully to stir up revolution on other farms. One day, on his way to a new farm, he was struck by a truck on its way out of town.

I told him what I watched through my time in my afterlife. I told him how I watched over the animals, helpless to intervene.

Together, Snowball and I watched the animals begin to build the windmill under Napoleon's instruction. They were still happy that they were an animal-run farm, and they were proud that they could accomplish so much by themselves. We were shocked to find the pigs taking more for themselves and giving less to the other animals. They claimed that it was for the laborious brain work that they had to preform all day, but Snowball and I knew that they were just being greedy. We knew that they were just using this as an excuse to take more for themselves.

June, 1949

The humans attacked the windmill today, and I was deeply saddened by the losses that the animals sustained. Some animals died, but they did not stay, as Snowball and I did. They just made their way to a place that I had learned of by overhearing Moses the raven. It was Sugarcandy Mountain. When I am done here, watching over the animals, I have every intention of going there.

I cannot depart yet, though. I need to know how the pigs will end up when they try to make the principle of Animalism more about them than the rest of the animals.

The coldness of Napoleon even chills my heart, which is no longer beating. He is overcome by greed and prejudice. He could care less about the animals that are now suppressed under his reign.

Boxer, though... he is an animal that should be leading this farm. He is just, strong, and while he is not too bright, he knows the difference between right and wrong. He knows what is good for the entire farm, rather than just for himself. Sadly, the evil powers of Napoleon have worked their way into his less-than-perfect brain and have brainwashed him into thinking that Napoleon is the epitome of good and that he is the vision of good leadership.

August, 1949

The harvest this year was nowhere as successful as last year's. Snowball and I agree that it is because it is no longer joy holding the farm together. It is fear. Fear of Napoleon, fear of his dogs, and fear of failure. They are afraid to fail in the eyes of the humans. They know that they must remain strong, and if they are not strong, they should look strong to their human enemies.

I know that this winter will be a hard one for all of the animals. All of them, that is, except for the pigs. The pigs will be warm and dry in the farmhouse. They may no longer crawl in the mud, but they disgust me as if they do.

December, 1949 

I have decided that the main point of corruption of the pigs is their greed. They are greedy in almost every way: they want more food, they want more pleasure, and they want more... well, everything.

Their greed is their corruption. Without it, they would be able to run the farm very well, I am sure. They have the intellect, but they do not have the compassion. 

July, 1950

Today, Snowball and I were joined by Boxer. At first, he did not know that he had died. He thought that all that had happened immediately before his death was a dream, and he kept trying to work. He grew more and more frustrated as he found he could not interact with things from the living world. Boxer was finally able to accept his fate when he saw me, an old pig who had been dead for more than two years.

He, too, decided to stay with Snowball and I. He wanted to find out what happened to the other animals on the farm, those who he cared about. 

June, 1954

Today, the humans came to the farm and toured it. They were impressed with what they saw, but I was disgusted, as were Snowball and Boxer. The pigs were evil. We could all tell that.

That was not the wort part. After the long, hard day of work that the animals endured, the pigs and the humans went back into the farmhouse to drink and play cards. They were foolish, but there is no way for me to tell them that. The other animals heard the ruckus coming from the farmhouse and went to investigate.

When they found the pigs, and I saw the looks on their faces, I wanted to cry. They all were so unhappy. All of this hardship, all of these troubles, and all of the bad things that have happened on this farm, they have all happened because some pigs took my vision of a perfect world and got greedy.

That is where my vision went wrong. The principle of my idea was a good one. I wanted all animals to be equal, and all animals to be happy. What I did not take into account, though, was the greed of animals. I thought that the would could be a fair and just place where everyone could be happy, but I was wrong. There always was, and always will be, an oppressor. Now, all the animals can do is push on.

It was all the greed. The greed was the downfall of this almost perfect civilization. And I just wish it had all turned out differently...

Tonight, Snowball, Boxer, and I will leave. There is nothing left here for us. There is nothing that we can do to try to make this better, and lately, that mountain in the sky has grown more and more alluring. So we will leave. We will leave behind all of this greed and corruption, and hopefully we will be happy. I can only hope that the living animals will find happiness, too.


End file.
